


in the burning light we see

by elysiumwaits



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fic: Treat, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trick or Treat: Treat, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: It's not only the snows of Emprise du Lion that have chilled Dorian to the bone.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	in the burning light we see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [osamakes (sinuous_curve)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinuous_curve/gifts).



> Happy Trick or Treat! I hope you like this - just a little crumb of a hurt/comfort fic, all quiet and soft.

Skyhold is warmer than Dorian remembers. That's what happens, he supposes, when you spend a few weeks trekking around in the snow and freezing your arse off in the name of saving the world. Skyhold is chilly but not frigid, and therein lies the difference. Still, his breath comes from his mouth in little puffy clouds as he exits the hall and starts across the courtyards. He's not as bundled up as he could be, the cool air tickling the skin of his arms, but he won't be out in the elements for long. 

There's no way to open the heavy wooden door without waking Bull. The lock tumbles with a metallic click, and the hinges creak when Dorian pushes his way in. The noise is on purpose, a product of a lifetime of people trying to assassinate him in his sleep. _'It's safer for you too,'_ Bull had said, serious in the early dawn light. _'I'm not the kind of guy you wanna sneak up on.'_ Not that Dorian couldn't handle himself well enough to avoid any true injury, just that neither of them wanted to be in that sort of situation first thing in the morning or late at night. Puts a bit of a damper on things.

"Kadan," Bull rumbles sleepily as Dorian closes and locks the door behind him. He levers himself up onto an elbow, eye glittering in the glow of the dying fire in the hearth. Dorian can see the bandages from here, wrapped around Bull's chest to keep his ribs still until they're knitted back into place enough for the healer to do their work safely. His eyes must linger on the wound overlong -- Bull lets out a fond breath through his nose and says, "Aw. You were worried."

Banishing the memory of the blow that took Bull down isn't easy, but Dorian tries anyway. He sniffs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes with an air of exasperation. "Every day with you is worrying, dearest," he says. 

He leans his staff against the wall nearby, within reach of the bed. For the first few weeks of being with the Inquisition, he had slept with it, gripping it tightly through the restless nights. Now, he just keeps it close. Dorian doesn't require the staff to hurl a fireball at someone, and here with Bull, he's never needed to use magic at all. 

The feeling of Bull's gaze on him as he undresses and readies himself for bed is tangible. Usually, it would serve as a friction, a physical heat on Dorian's skin. "You're gonna have to do all the work if you want anything," Bull says. Dorian rolls his eyes. No. Tonight, all Dorian wants is to sleep where he can hear Bull breathing, steady but rasped. He wants to feel Bull's chest rise and fall under his hand. He _needs_ to replace the memory of Bull in blood-stained snow with the knowledge that Bull is alive, and breathing, and here next to him.

"The healers will string me up by my little toes if I do anything to upset your healing," he says, instead of _'I just need to know you're alive tonight.'_ Bull already knows. One of the many hazards of getting entangled with a former Ben Hassrath spy. And, oh, is Dorian ever _entangled_.

It's quiet between them until Dorian gets himself under the blankets -- a thin one for Bull and two thicker ones on top, but only on Dorian's side of the bed. The low embers of the hearth will burn hot through most of the night. Dorian will light the fire anew in the morning without leaving the bed. Until then, Bull's body heat, pressed closed to him, will be enough. 

Dorian settles on his left side, first on the pillow, and then lifting briefly to allow Bull's arm underneath his head. On the nights that Dorian spends with Bull (which are more often than not, these days), this is how they sleep -- Dorian clinging, curled into Bull's side with one hand on Bull's broad chest. There is no space on the bed between them, simply because Bull is so big. Dorian imagines that even in an abnormally large bed, they would still be too close together, allowing no air between their bodies.

"Dorian."

He can feel the rumble of Bull's voice through the hand that he rests on his chest. Dorian is careful to avoid the bandages, settles it just above them instead. He can feel the rise of Bull's every intake, and the fall of Bull's every breath. It's comforting, but Dorian still can't close his eyes without seeing Bull fall to the giant's blow, again and again.

"I'm not that easy to kill," Bull says, low like the embers in the hearth. "You're not rid of me yet."

"More's the pity." Dorian doesn't mean it. Bull knows that Dorian doesn't mean it. But acknowledging just how deeply their feelings for each other run isn't something that either can do yet. Well, Dorian amends, Bull no doubt can. Dorian, on the other hand, still feels the fragility of everything around them, knows that there is an entire country between them, is painfully aware of how easy it would be for one of them to fall in battle and never get up again. Maybe that should give him a sense of urgency instead of driving Dorian to keep the words locked behind his teeth.

Bull shifts, wraps the arm that's under Dorian's head just enough that he can pull Dorian impossibly closer. "You're thinking too much." He follows it with a long, content sigh, and Dorian knows that if he were to look up, he would see Bull's eye closed, the lines of his face smoothing out in preparation for sleep. "Go to sleep, kadan. It can wait."

It can wait.

Tonight, the hearth radiates warmth to fight the chill. Tonight, Skyhold is calm and quiet. Tonight, Dorian can feel the warmth of Bull beside him. 

Dorian closes his eyes and sees only a comforting darkness. 


End file.
